


Don't Dream it's Over

by LinkinPhoenix



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:02:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24422476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinkinPhoenix/pseuds/LinkinPhoenix
Summary: [One-Shot] The War has been over for six months, but the guilt is eating away at Harry and now he thinks he's found a way out. Is there time left for Hermione to save her best friend?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	Don't Dream it's Over

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Harry Potter Franchise or characters. All characters used are the property of their respective owners.
> 
> Special Thanks: tweety-src-clt9 for helping me flesh out the story beats. If you love Harmony (Harry/Hermione) go read, her stories. If you just like really good writing, go read her stories.
> 
> Note: Some canon events may be fudged to better fit the narrative.
> 
> Warning: Angsty/depressed Harry ahead.

St. Jerome’s Church Graveyard

Godric’s Hollow, West Country, G.B.

31 October 1998

Harry Potter knelt at the headstones of his parent’s graves, he brushed away the freshly fallen snow and laid flowers as he took the pendant he’d been wearing and placed it on the ground. He took a slow shuddering breath as he glanced first to his left to where Sirius was buried and then his right where Remus and Tonks were buried. This was the result of his failure.

“Hi, I guess it’s been a while,” Harry took another breath, watching the mist dissipate in the cold air. “I got the bastard, Voldemort came to Hogwarts, and I got him, but not before…” Harry stopped glancing up at Tonks and Remus’s graves. “So many people died, so many Death Eaters got away, again. The Wizengamot elected Amos Diggory to be the Minister for Magic, and everything has gone back to the way it was before. They gave me a medal for killing Riddle and told me to basically fuck off…”

“I tried… I tried so hard to make sure they’d be punished, but no one wants to know. No one wants me around anymore, not even Hermione. I’m just in the way now, I’m a reminder of all the people who died, all the people I was supposed to save and couldn’t.”

Harry could feel the tears turning to ice on his cheeks, so he wiped them away before he continued. “I did my bit, I saved the world, and now it can move on. Hermione can move on, with Ron,” Harry wiped his eyes again. “I’m so tired, I don’t sleep anymore, I’m tired of all the people who want to talk to me, that want to interview me, that want to be seen with me. No one wants to listen to what I say, but they all still want their own little piece of the Boy-Who-Lived. They don’t care that every question is a reminder of everyone I failed.”

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, I could try and escape into the Muggles world, the Goblins even said they’d move my money into one of their Squib run subsidiaries, but they’d drag me back eventually. Dumbledore wouldn’t let me go when he was alive, and the people who followed him aren’t going to let me go now that he’s dead. So, this is my answer.”

Harry picked up the pendant and held it between his fingers. “It’s a Draught of Living Death, I bet Snape would be surprised I was able to brew it properly, but its different from the usual potion. I found a book in the Black Library that listed a variant, it's especially charmed so that the Wiggenweld potion won’t work. The only way for the imbiber to come back is if they want too.”

“I don’t want to come back, there is nothing left for me here,” Harry paused again as a wry grin crossed his lips. “Oh, and don’t worry Sirius, Malfoy won’t get anything. I made a will and filed it with the Goblins before I came here. I left some money for the Weasley’s, some money for Andi and Teddy, and some money for Hermione, and the rest I gave to muggles orphanages. I specifically instructed them to make sure the money was managed so the kids would benefit, and if the money was misused, they could do what they like to the person that misused it. That made them very happy. So, Malfoy will get that damn title he’s been craving, but he’ll also be flat broke.”

Harry stood; the chain the vial was hooked to was wrapped in his fist. “I’ll see you soon.”

Harry only stumbled slightly as he landed back at Grimmauld Place if he didn’t feel so tired and fed up with life, he might have found dark humour in it. He walked up to his room, the one he’d shared with Ron when the Order used the house as their base during the war.

Harry sat heavily on the bed, cradling his head in his hands. After a few moments, he reached out and ghosted his fingers over the envelopes sitting on his side table. They were letters to all the important people in his life, at least the ones that were left. They were letters that would never be read, he just felt it necessary to get his feelings out onto paper before the end so at least they would be straight in his head. The only exception he’d made was for Teddy, he wanted to explain why he wasn’t there for his Godson. Harry left the letter in a box of keepsakes he’d given to the Goblins, with the strict instruction that it only be delivered to Teddy when he’s older. Harry would let Andi decide when Teddy was ready to see it.

Harry swung his legs over onto the bed and laid back. He was almost ready; the wards would lock down a few seconds after he swallowed the potion. No one would be able to get in, he was sure. “Kreacher.”

“Young Master calls Kreacher?” The decrepit house-elf asked.

“Yeah, it’s almost time. I guess I just wanted to say thanks for everything.”

“Kreacher implores Young Master not to do this. Young Master should talk to the Muggles girl, the Muggles girl always knows best for Master.”

“Muggles...?” Harry asks but then pauses. “No, it’s too late. Hermione made her decision. I won’t get in the way of her happiness, not anymore.”

“Young Master is Muggles girl’s happiness,” Kreacher muttered.

Harry pretended not to hear him, and instead tapped the crank on the mechanical record player beside the bed. It started playing O Children by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, the song brought back one of his fondest memories. He danced with Hermione to this song in the Forest of Dean after Ron abandoned them. He loved her, but she loved Ron... he wouldn’t get in the way of that.

“Goodbye, Kreacher,” Harry said as he tipped the concoction down his throat. Harry let his hand fall at his side as sleep overtook him.

Kreacher watched with tears in his eyes. He’d watched one beloved master die and had been unable to stop it, he would not let it happen again. The letters sat on Harry’s side table found their way into his hands, and he popped away seconds later, leaving Harry to sleep in peace.

Granger Residence, Crawley, G.B.

Hermione Granger sat in the empty house of her parents, with every book on Obliviation she’d been able to find in the Hogwarts and Black Libraries spread out in front of her. Hermione had found out what she already knew, restoring the memories of her parents might be impossible.

Hermione threw her pen down and leaned back on the sofa, running her fingers through her luscious curly hair. She’d hated it when she was younger, but now, after Harry so often complimented how good it looked, she’d learned to accept it.

Hermione’s thoughts turned to her raven-haired best friend, in the six months since the end of the war, he’d slowly drifted away from his friends and the Weasley family. It wasn’t sudden, but it was noticeable, Hermione glanced at the growing pile of notes stacked on one corner of the table. They had been passed around between Harry’s friends and finally back to her. Everyone believed Hermione was the only person who could reach Harry. Even Ron, famed for having the emotional range of a teaspoon, trademark pending, agreed with that assessment. Hermione wondered if it was the kiss that had kept Harry away, at least from her. The kiss that hadn’t even led anywhere.

Ron had thankfully accepted Hermione’s explanation that the kiss was done in the heat of the moment. He’d confided that it had surprised him, as he always thought that Hermione and Harry would get together. Hermione had tried to laugh the last bit off, but something about stuck in Hermione’s mind, feelings she’d buried for the sake of her best friend and his relationship with Ginny. She and Ron agreed to remain friends and never speak of it again, Ron had quickly picked up his sixth-year relationship with Lavender Brown after that.

Hermione almost threw herself over the couch when a letter drops onto the pile of papers in front of her. Seconds later she popped up from behind the sofa, wand in hand. After casting as many detection spells as she could remember, Hermione gingerly picked up the letter from the table. She immediately recognised the untidy scrawl on the envelope from six years of correcting her best friend’s homework. Hermione immediately ripped it open, tossing the envelope aside.

Dear Hermione,

I don’t know where to begin, I’m not even sure what I want to say, that’s not true, I know what I want to say, I’m just not sure how to express it.

Letter writing is hard.

I keep staring at this parchment and I keep thinking about everything I want to say, so, here I go.

I’ve never not been happy that you’re in my life. Even the couple of times we’ve fallen out, I wanted to immediately patch things but, but either pride or Ron stopped me from doing it. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, but since the war ended, I’ve seen you getting on with your life, without me.

I don’t blame you for it, you deserve to be happy and successful. You’re a brilliant and beautiful witch and I have faith that you’ll accomplish everything you set your mind too. I just wish I could be there to share it with you.

Ron complains about how rich and famous I am, but I’m the one who is jealous of him, he has everything I want. He has a family, a future, and you.

I love you Hermione Granger.

I’ve loved you since our fourth year in school, it wasn’t the Yule Ball that did it either, although you looked amazing in that dress. You stood by me when everyone, including Ron, thought I was a cheating show off. I should have asked you to go to the ball with me, I was a damn coward then, and I’m a damn coward now. I should be telling you this to your face, even if I get rejected because you’re in love with Ron. But I can’t, I can’t take away your happiness, and I won’t do it to Ron either.

I’m sad that I won’t be there to see you become the best person you can be. But I believe you can do it. Wherever I end up, I will always support you.

All my love,  
Harry

The letter dropped from Hermione’s fingers as tears rolled down her cheeks. It finally made sense to her, the way he’d drifted away from them. A bad feeling gnawed at the pit of her stomach, it sounded as if Harry was leaving, but if he was leaving why wouldn’t he just say it.

Unless…

Hermione paled and grabbed her coat.

Moments later Hermione landed with a thud in the bushes of the park across from 12 Grimmauld Place. She had to bite her lip bloody to stop herself from screaming out in pain, it was almost as bad as having the Cruciatus curse cast on her again. Hermione drew her legs up against herself, resting her chin on her knees as she waited for the pain to subside. Seconds later a steaming beaker of potion appeared beside her, along with the House Elf who had made it. “Kreacher is sorry Muggles Girl hit the War Wards, Kreacher made this for Muggles girl, it makes you feel better.”

Hermione nodded and took a sip of the potion, it tasted disgusting, but it did allow the pain to subside. She downed the rest in one pull, wanting to avoid prolonging the taste. Once she’d swallowed it all, Kreacher made the beaker vanish.

“Kreacher, what’s going on, why are the War Wards active, where is Harry?” Hermione demanded.

“Kreacher is sorry, Master ordered Kreacher not to speak about that. Master only ordered Kreacher to take care of Muggles girl.”

“Could you let me into the house at least?”

“Kreacher is sorry, Master ordered Kreacher not to let anyone in.”

Hermione frowned. “Kreacher, this isn’t a very safe neighbourhood, is it?”

Kreacher shook his head. “Bad, filthy muggles steal, Master’s house protected, or filthy muggles would take everything inside.”

“So, then it stands to reason I’m not safe out here, doesn’t it?”

Kreacher’s eyes narrowed. “It does…”

“So, wouldn’t I be safer inside Harry’s house, he did task you with looking after me?”

A toothless grin spread over the old House-elf’s face. “Muggles girl is right; Muggles girl would be safer behind the wards!”

Before Hermione could say any more, she was inside 12 Grimmauld Place. Unsteadily rising to her feet, she looked around the darkened hallway as Kreacher took her coat. “Kreacher, where is the picture of Missus Black?”

“Master put a box over Mistress’s portrait and cast a silencing charm over it. Kreacher was displeased, but Kreacher follows master’s orders now.”

“To a point?” Hermione asked, slightly amused.

“Sometimes Kreacher must protect master from himself.”

“Kreacher, shouldn’t the War Wards stop me from entering the house?”

Kreacher nodded. “They do stop Witches and Wizards from entering the house, but Witches and Wizards are lazy, they don’t think about poor Kreacher. Elf-apparition be different from Wizard apparition, elf apparition not bother the War Wards.”

Hermione nodded solemnly and walked upstairs as quickly as her pain ravaged body would carry her. Eventually she found Harry, he was laying on the bed, the slight rising and falling of his chest told her he was still alive. Hermione tried to shake Harry awake but it was of no use.

“You still can’t tell me what Harry did?”

“Kreacher is sorry, Master ordered Kreacher not to tell…”

“I’m not a doctor, I don’t know…” A smile crossed Hermione’s lips. “Kreacher, I need a doctor to check me over, I don’t know what colliding with the War Wards could have done. I order you to bring Andromeda Tonks here to examine me!”

“Yes!”

A few minutes later he re-appeared with Medi-Witch Andromeda Tonks in tow. “Hermione, what’s going on, Kreacher told me you were hurt?”

Hermione nodded. “I hit the War Wards when I tried to apparate into the house, Andi, that’s not important,” She explained as she dragged the older witch over to the bed. “Harry did something, I can’t wake him up.”

Andromeda frowned and began casting several complicated diagnostic spells over the Godfather of her Grandson. “He appears to have taken a Draught of Living Death, of all the stupid… if Kreacher hadn’t brought you here he would have died.”

“Kreacher was ordered not to, but we uh, fudged it a little, I’ll tell you later,” Hermione added when she saw the curious expression on Andromeda’s face.

“Ok, help me tip his head back, I’m going to pour some Wiggenweld potion down his throat,” Andromeda explained, diving into her medical bag.

Hermione complied lifting her best friend’s head and opening his mouth. Andi tipped the concoction down his throat and cast a spell to make him swallow. Several anxious minutes later and Harry hadn’t woken up. Hermione glanced worriedly at the frowning Andromeda. “Andi, why won’t he wake up?”

Instead of answering, Andromeda swept out of the room, which reminded Hermione, that while her last name was Tonks, Andi was still every bit a woman of the Black family. She returned a few minutes later carrying a small book. “Kreacher, come here!”

“Mistress called?”

“Did Harry read this book?”

Kreacher nodded sadly. “He did…”

“Damn it, Harry!”

“Andi, what’s wrong?”

Andromeda scowled. “This is a book, handwritten by mine and Harry’s ancestors, it’s a code by which every member of the Black family is to live. There are rules about how a member of the Black family is supposed to deport themselves. There are also rules about how a member of the Black family is supposed to conduct themselves if they ever bring shame upon the family.”

Andromeda crossed the room and rested a gentle hand on Harry’s cheek. “In the worst cases, when Black family honour is damaged, by say siding with blood traitors or marrying a mundane born wizard, there is a potion variant of the Draught of Living Death we should take. By taking it the imbiber is, at least according to the book, accepting punishment for disgracing the family thereby restoring honour to the Black name.”

“W-what’s special about the v-variant?” Hermione asked shakily, approaching the bed.

“You cast a spell before taking it that immunises the imbiber against the Wiggenweld potion, the only way to wake up is if you want to wake up. We can’t help him.”

“You’re wrong!” Hermione shouted. “I won’t accept that I can’t help him, he’s the boy-who-lived, he’s my best friend, my Harry! I won’t let him die, not now, not when I haven’t, not when I haven’t told him I love him!”

Hermione stormed out of Harry’s room and down the corridor to the library. Once there she took to pacing up and down in front of the bookcases. She needed a plan, she needed a spell, or a potion, or a ritual, that would allow her to reach Harry and convince him to come back. He told her he loved her, and if he died there would be no way for her to tell him she felt the same.

It took Hermione two days, but she found what she was looking for, well, she didn’t find the exact book she was looking for, but she found a book on Soul magic. This triggered Hermione prodigious memory to kick into gear and remember a passage in a book she’d read while studying the Horcrux problem. After a brief conversation with Headmistress McGonagall and a visit to Dumbledore’s private library she proudly presented the book to Andromeda.

“Hermione, do you understand the risk you’ll be taking?” Andi asked as she read over the steps for making the Flare Patiare Innubere Nostris potion.

“If I’m not able to convince Harry to come back within four days my magical core will rupture, and I’ll die. Yes, it’s worth it.”

Andromeda frowned as her nostrils flared in annoyance. “Ok.”

It took Andromeda and Hermione another day to brew the potion adding a mild sleep potion to the mix, but soon they were ready. Hermione lay on the bed beside Harry in white bra and panty set, the theory being that close skin on skin contact would facilitate the merging of their magical aura, allowing Hermione’s mind and soul to cross the void and merge with Harry. He was now dressed in simple boxer shorts. Hermione blushed when she’d first saw him, not quite ever realising how a year on the run and Quidditch had toned her best friend’s body. Hermione took a breath and accepted the potion vial from Andi.

“Good luck.”

Hermione nodded and tipped the potion contents down her throat. Soon the world began to swim in front of her eyes, and she passed out.

When Hermione woke up, she was laying on the cold stone floor of a featureless grey room. A low light permeated the room but there was no source. Hermione stood and quickly found what she was looking for, Harry James Potter was sitting in a corner, dressed in the tattered hand-me-downs he’d been forced to wear rather than the stylish attire she and Andromeda had bought him shortly after the war.

Harry flinched and looked up when Hermione dropped down beside him, wrapping an arm around his and pressing her head against his shoulder. He took a shuddering breath. “Hermione, why…?”

“I’m here for you, I’m here to bring you home.”

“…Are you my angel of death?”

Hermione frowned. “No, Harry, it’s me, the real me, your best friend. I came to save you.”

“I don’t need saving.” He mumbled in response.

“Yes, you do! It’s just this time, it's not Voldemort or Umbridge, you need saving from yourself!”

Harry scowled and finally looked up and at Hermione. Gone was the warmth she usually associated with his beautiful green eyes, this Harry was broken, he’d given up on life. “Let me rephrase that I don’t want to be saved.”

“Why, why are you doing this, Harry, you have so much…”

Harry pulled free of Hermione’s grip and got up, walking away from the brunette. “I don’t, though, don’t you get it! I don’t have anything left, my family is dead, my friends died fighting in a war I could have stopped if I’d been stronger. So many peopled died and I can’t stop their murderers from getting away with it. No one wants to listen to me. I can’t change anything, I can’t get justice, I can’t even get the woman I love to love me back. So, what’s the point of being alive?!”

Harry stormed over to the other side of the room and sat down in the opposite corner from Hermione. He glared at her through the tears. “Leave me alone, Hermione, go back to Ron.”

The two sat in silence for several hours, only broken by Harry’s quiet sobs that subsided after twenty minutes or so. Finally, Hermione spoke, but kept to her side of the room. “Why do you think I would go back to Ron?”

Harry looked at her incredulously. “You’re in love with Ron, I know about the kiss so don’t bother denying it.”

“I wasn’t planning on denying that Ron and I kissed.”

“Good, fine, whatever.” Harry grumbled.

“Did you ever bother finding out what happened afterwards?”

“No… I mean, I just assumed you two would have hooked up. You’ve been pining after him since sixth year.”

Hermione scowled. “Well, now I know you’re being stupid…”

“Hey!”

“I haven’t been pining after Ron, I’ve been pining after you, you stupid prat!”

“Oh, come off it Hermione, you got all bent out of shape after we won the Quidditch Cup in sixth year when Ron kissed Lavender and now you’ve finally gotten what you want.”

“I wasn’t upset that Ron kissed Lavender you jerk! I was upset that you kissed Ginny! That was the same night remember!”

“Why would you be…”

“Because I am in love with you! But you never showed any interest in me, it was always Cho or Ginny, never Hermione, I was always the bushy haired best friend who nagged you into doing your homework and saved you from getting killed when you did something stupidly noble!”

After taking several deep breaths Hermione realised, she was standing. Harry stood and walked over to her, taking her hand in his. “I didn’t know… I thought, I thought it was always one-sided. I saw you fawning over Ron and thought my chances were dashed…”

“That’s what I thought, which is why I put so much time into trying to get Ron interested. But then I read your letter…”

Harry paused. “W-what letter…?”

“The one you wrote to me. The one that told me how much you loved me.” Hermione replied watching Harry go pale.

“N-no one was supposed to see that… I wrote… I wrote those letters for myself, so that I would know how I felt.”

“How were you supposed to stop people from seeing them after you were dead?”

“Kreacher was supposed to destroy them, except the one I wrote to Teddy, that one I left in my vault. He’s supposed to read it when he’s older. I wanted him to know why his Godfather was a coward.”

Hermione’s fingers brushed Harry’s cheek. “You’re not a coward Harry, you’re unwell, you’re carrying around all this guilt. You think it’s all your fault…”

“It is my…”

“NO, IT’S NOT! DAMN IT HARRY YOU’RE JUST A TEENAGER! THAT BASTARD DUMBLEDORE PUT THE FUTURE OF THE WORLD ON YOUR SHOULDERS! THAT’S NOT FAIR! CHILDREN AREN’T SUPPOSED TO FIGHT WARS! THE ONLY THING YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN WORRIED ABOUT FOR SEVEN YEARS IS THE BEST WAY TO ASK ME OUT AND HOMEWORK, NOT DEFEATING SOME RUDDY DARK WANKER WHO DOESN’T WANT TO DIE!”

Hermione stopped pacing and pressed her face into Harry’s chest, taking several deep breaths. Harry couldn’t help but smile. “Asking you out and homework, in that order, are you sure you’re Hermione Granger?”

Hermione gently punched Harry in the chest. “You’re a prat.”

Harry’s face turned sad again. “It hurts Hermione…”

Hermione slipped her arms around him. “I know but dying won’t solve anything. I know you’re sad and angry, but we can do something about that. I’ll be here to help.”

“I don’t want you to put…”

“Harry, shut up.” Hermione replied scoldingly. Harry simply nodded. “I’m not going to put my life on hold, because I don’t consider taking care of the man, I love putting things on hold. I will be with you ever step, but only if you come back to us.”

Hermione stared up at Harry pleadingly, he watched her, pushing a strand of her bushy brown hair aside so he could look into the brown eyes of the woman he loved. “I-I suppose, I can try.”

“That’s all I ask.”

Harry nodded and closed his eyes, moments later the room faded from existence.

Harry Potter awoke to find Andromeda Tonks hovering over him, wand in hand. He tried to move but he found a weight leaning against him. He looked over and blushed finding a semi-naked Hermione Granger pressed against his body. He glanced worriedly back towards Andi who patted him gently. “It’s ok, I just gave Hermione the antidote, she just needs some rest to let her core recover.”

“Core… what did she do?” Harry asked feeling the anger rise in his chest.

“Hermione took a potion the let her magical aura flare out so she could reach across your combined magic and talk to you. It must have worked if you’re awake.”

“It did, but… wasn’t that dangerous?”

“It was, but she thought it was worth it to save the man she loved.”

Harry’s hand drifted to Hermione’s brown hair, brushing it away from her face. “I almost made a fatal mistake.”

“I know, and we’ll talk about it later. For now, you should rest.”

As Andi left Kreacher appeared at the foot of the bed, ringing his overly large ears between his fingers. “Kreacher is sorry Young Master, Kreacher didn’t want Young Master to die like Master Regulus. Kreacher will accept death as punishment.”

Harry shook his head. “No Kreacher, you didn’t do anything wrong; you were right, I should have talked to Hermione… those letters, did you send the rest out?”

“No master, just the one that you wrote to the Young Mistress. Kreacher knew that Young Mistress would save Young Master.”

Harry smiled and nodded. “Yeah, she does that.”

“Kreacher is happy, Kreacher will go.”

As the House-Elf popped away Hermione stirred. “Harry, you’re back.”

“Thanks to you.” Harry replied giving her a kiss on the forehead.

“So, are you going to ask?”

“Ask what?” Harry inquired, confused.

Hermione groaned resting her head on his shoulder. “When a boy and girl like each other, traditionally, the boy…”

Harry’s eyes widened. “O-oh, yeah, so, um, Hermione Granger, would you do me the honour of being my girlfriend?”

Hermione smiled and pulled herself up to kiss Harry on the nose. “Being your girlfriend is a dream come true.”

The End

**Author's Note:**

> In canon Lavender and Ron kiss a lot earlier in the book than they do in my version, but it suited the narrative better to have those two events coincide.


End file.
